


Unsaid

by twoturtlesinabathtub



Series: Dance in the Dark [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Companion Piece, M/M, Mutual Pining, brief mention of an event in Awakening, can be read as standalone, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 00:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16459652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoturtlesinabathtub/pseuds/twoturtlesinabathtub
Summary: In bed together under unusual circumstances, Laslow and Xander individually attempt to decide what exactly it is that they want.





	Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saturnulysses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnulysses/gifts).



> A birthday present for my good friend, Ulysses! Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Takes place directly after [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292097), but can definitely be read as a standalone.

Laslow twitched when he felt something brush against his back.

That made him uneasy. His mind immediately went back to a night several years ago, when some butter scorpions had skittered from Gerome’s adjacent tent to his own. Sure, it’d ultimately been Laslow’s fault, but no one deserved such a terrifying awakening. What the hell was in his bed _this_  time?

Laslow moved slowly, turning over onto his left side and praying that the noise had come from something harmless. Instead, he nearly shrieked when he saw what was in bed with him. Or _who_ , more accurately. That was when Laslow remembered that this wasn’t even his bed. It wasn’t his bed at all.

Which explained why he was sleeping with Xander, Crown Prince of Nohr. Dear gods.

How could Laslow have forgotten? He’d accidentally passed out while guarding Xander, and the prince had taken him to his bedchamber to rest. They’d had a tense conversation—during which Xander had scolded Laslow, the retainer remembered with a pout—and then the prince had ordered him to stay put and get some more rest. So, here he was, in bed with his liege. And he didn’t want to admit to himself how much he liked the sound of that.

But it wasn’t his fault that things had come to this! He didn’t know that Xander would still sleep in his bed, despite Laslow also being in it. ...But, really, it did make sense. It _was_  Xander’s bed, and a magnificent one, at that. The dark sheets were so soft and smooth, the duvet so plush and comfy, that Laslow wanted to stay between them forever.

Once he’d calmed down a bit, Laslow studied the prince’s face in the dim, flickering light from the fireplace. Xander’s brow was no longer furrowed, his face no longer set in an expression of solemnity. He just looked...untroubled. Serene. Like he didn’t feel as though the weight of his entire kingdom rested on his shoulders. Laslow smiled at the sight; he could count on one hand how many times he’d seen Xander look even remotely relaxed. Perhaps he was having pleasant dreams, but of what, Laslow couldn’t begin to guess.

His eyes wandered down further, and he swallowed hard when his gaze came to rest on the loose, pale sleeping tunic that Xander wore to bed. It had a deep v-neck and, try as Laslow did to keep from admiring the firm planes of Xander’s chest that peeked through, he didn’t have the strength. It took all Laslow had in him to not scoot even closer to the prince.

He was ripped from his musings when Xander let out an unintelligible grumble and shifted closer, his left arm sliding up until it had wrapped itself around Laslow’s waist. The retainer let out a squeak, but shut up quickly for fear of waking the prince up. If this fantastic bed wasn’t keeping Laslow warm, then his cheeks were certainly up to the task.

The current situation was pretty ironic, Laslow realized. Here he was, lying in bed with a man for whom he had very strong feelings, and yet...they weren’t lovers. This was the closest that Laslow had ever been to Xander, but it didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t _real._ The retainer bit back a sigh.

Still, even though it wasn’t real, Laslow could pretend—even if just for one night. Perhaps that would tide him over for the rest of his time in Nohr. He shifted a bit closer to the prince, until only a few inches lay between them. It felt a little like a dream. With this thought, and still very much tired, Laslow began to drift off to sleep again. 

~.~.~

Xander was typically a light sleeper by nature, used to waking up a time or two in the night. So it came as no surprise when he was gradually roused from slumber by muffled, intermittent sounds next to him. He opened his eyes slowly and was met with the sight of Laslow, his dearest friend, snoring quietly at his side. The prince permitted himself a small grin at that, but noticed with alarm that his left arm was around Laslow, and they were lying _very_  closely together. Xander lifted it off as carefully as he could, utterly mortified.

His thoughts sobered further when he remembered why Laslow was in his bed in the first place. Xander should have known. He should’ve seen it, should have noticed Laslow’s exhaustion. He was usually good at keeping an eye on Laslow—making sure that he didn’t neglect his duties, or chase after girls too often, or get into any fights. He watched Laslow like a hawk, noting every laugh, every wink, even the occasional flash of something dark in his eyes—something hollow and sad, though the retainer quickly hid it with another smile. And Xander had failed him. Self-reproachment left a bitter taste in his mouth.

With his back to the fire, Laslow’s face was in shadow. It only served to emphasize the dark circles under his eyes, which sent another twinge through Xander. Carefully, the prince reached up and placed the back of his hand on Laslow’s forehead. No fever. His breathing seemed normal. He likely wasn’t sick, then. A relief.

Xander’s hand lingered on Laslow’s skin without his fully realizing; as soon as he did, he withdrew it. He had no right to do that, no right to touch Laslow without his consent. Not only was it the act of a cad, but it would be difficult to explain away if Laslow were to catch him. Nevertheless, as he gazed at the man next to him who in that moment looked so exhausted and peaceful and _small_ , Xander felt an unbidden urge to pull Laslow closer, enfold him in his arms, shield him. It was an urge with which Xander had become more and more familiar over the past couple of years.

...It couldn’t hurt, surely. Slowly, slowly, Xander shifted closer and pressed a feathery kiss to Laslow’s hair. It smelled like lilacs. Laslow let out a soft noise in his sleep and turned over onto his back. Xander contemplated his companion. All too soon, the morning would come—and Xander would have to decide how to move forward. This wasn’t the sort of strategy that he was used to planning, though. Laslow was a strong man, but the prince was acutely aware of the holes in his retainer’s armor. He feared that the wrong words would hurt him, ruin their relationship, and the prince couldn’t entertain that possibility.

Perhaps...Laslow felt the same as he. Xander had tried on numerous occasions to gauge whether or not Laslow viewed their relationship as something beyond purely professional—but that handsome, smiling mask was usually carefully in its place. Last night was an anomaly, however—Laslow had been extremely tired, his emotions cracking the mask here and there. Xander could clearly recall Laslow’s stammering, blushing, and hesitancy to leave the prince’s side. None of those things were too out of the ordinary, but the look on his face when Xander had touched him had made a particularly strong impression. His expression had looked like... _longing_.

Xander was used to performing cost-benefit analyses in a martial setting. But the baring of his feelings with no guarantee of reciprocation seemed like too big a risk to take. And, much as he wanted to scold himself for being a coward, he couldn’t find the resolve to take such a plunge.

Feeling dissatisfied, Xander scooted back from Laslow and turned until he was facing away from the other man, silently cursing himself until he fell asleep once more.

~.~.~

Laslow cracked his eyes open in the early morning light to see that he was alone. Stiffly, he sat up in bed and looked around the room, but after confirming that Prince Xander was gone, let out a little huff and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He’d just finished putting on his boots and was running a hand through his tangled hair when he heard the door click open. He jumped to attention.

“Good, you’re awake,” greeted Xander as he remained in the doorway. Laslow nodded, crimson staining his cheeks as he thought about their cuddling session the night before. “Corrin has informed me that you have mess hall duty this morning.”

“Oh?” Laslow’s voice cracked. He wanted to die. “Th-thank you, milord. I’ll just be on my way, then.” He began to walk towards the door, but stopped as soon as he realized that Xander hadn’t moved an inch. “Is...something wrong?” he asked.

Xander’s expression was unreadable. “You’re certain that you’re up to the task? I would be remiss if I allowed you to collapse again.”

“‘Allowed’? It wasn’t your fault,” said Laslow, his confusion evident in the scrunching of his brow. “I did this to myself—and you cleaned up after my mess, as usual.” He laughed awkwardly. “Sometimes I wonder why you don’t just replace me.”

Now Xander was giving Laslow that same look of concern he’d had on his face the night before. “Don’t say that. Never say that.”

Laslow’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It isn’t I you’ve offended,” Xander objected, “but yourself. I chose you as my retainer because I easily recognized your skill—but I’ve kept you by my side because I see the man that you constantly prove yourself to be. Replacing you would be unthinkable.”

Silence lay steadily as Xander’s words hung in the air. Laslow had to break the tension or he feared he’d burst. “I don’t—” Laslow felt like Xander’s gaze was burning into him, and he had to look away— “it’s nothing, Lord Xander. Never mind. I’ll just be on my way, then,” he repeated. Again, Laslow moved forward as if to leave. Again, Xander remained in the doorway. “Um, milord?”

Xander blinked rapidly, finally realizing that he was blocking Laslow from leaving. He walked into his chambers, freeing the doorway. “Forgive me,” Xander muttered. “I was...thinking.”

Laslow smiled. “I’ll leave you to it.” He hadn’t taken two steps when Xander said his name. “Yes?” asked the retainer.

Xander’s eyes were deep and dark. “Be well,” he murmured.

The earnestness in Xander’s voice almost made Laslow’s throat catch. “Thank you, Xander. I will.”

Xander wasn’t sure if Laslow realized that he’d omitted Xander’s title. The prince fiercely hoped that it wasn’t an accident.

As Laslow turned to leave, something in Xander just  _snapped_  like a string worn thin. He had never been a gambler. But he liked the odds on this. “Laslow.”

The retainer turned back, eyes questioning. “Yes, Lor—”

He wasn’t able to finish. In an instant, Xander had one hand on Laslow’s hip, the other one gently cradling the back of his head. Before he could talk himself out of it, he was pressing a kiss to Laslow’s lips, his eyes closed so that he wouldn’t have to see the retainer’s no-doubt shocked expression.

Laslow didn’t respond to the kiss, standing stiff as a board. Xander pulled back, bracing himself for the worst, and met the other man’s stunned gaze with a small wince. Laslow stared at him with huge eyes, his breath stuttering, and Xander felt like his own sanity was hanging by a thread. Then Laslow gave him a radiant smile and stood on the very tips of his toes to bring their mouths back together. Bright lights exploded behind Xander’s eyelids. Before he consciously realized what he was doing, he had Laslow pushed up against the wall by the door; the shorter man let out a little “oof” when his back hit the wall.

“I’m sorry,” Xander whispered against Laslow’s lips.

The shorter man blinked up at him, still grinning. “Don’t be.”

Xander kissed him again. “May I safely assume that you’d like to continue?” Continue touching. Holding. Exploring. Much, much more.

Laslow muffled his laugh against Xander’s chest. “Did you really need to ask?”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m considering writing more for this pairing because I love it so goddamned much haha. If you have any prompts that you’d like for me to take a look at, then please let me know ^^


End file.
